The Cult of Human Cleanliness

January 13, 2009

Miss Candi Jenkins

I have nary a thing against being clean and sanitary. Bathing occupies a great deal of my time unlike the two leggers who usually only bathe once daily. Some wash their paws more than others from what I can tell. Mom and Dad are always nagging our two legged sister to wash her paws and especially after she has been with us. I wonder why this is? Do they think we are dirty? We are not.

I can’t recall the last time we have really gotten dirty. Whenever we get in that heavenly dirt box out back, they call us to get out. When we come in Mom frowns and starts wiping our nose. I thought the dirt box or raised bed as mom calls it was for us. She says there used to be tomatoes and other food planted there. I wonder why she doesn’t put that there now?

We aren’t allowed on the big cushy furniture, although Rock jumps on the sofa when they leave the room. They only catch him when I tell him to come down. It’s like they can understand me. Our two leggers learn so fast.

I hear Mom talking about our hair and how they need to be careful that it not become a condiment. I don’t understand what that means. I’ll google it later. We shed our hair, Rock more than me, but that is natural. They are always vacuuming and sweeping it to put in a bag. I wonder what they do with it.

The biggest mystery is what they do with our poop. Mom seems to like it the most. She has this device that looks like a long arm with a claw. She attaches a yellow bag to the claw. As soon as we poop, she claws it inside the bag. After it is filled, she ties it up and takes it outside where it is thrown into a big green barrel with other bigger bags. Once a week, this big monster like car comes and gets the green barrel from where she places it beside the street. I wonder why they want it and what they do with it. Mom searches for our poop like treasure. She seems disappointed when she doesn’t find any and gleeful when she does. Sometimes she and Dad compare the amount they find. Mom seems to brag about how much she finds. Our little sister has only clawed our poop once or twice. She doesn’t like it as much as the others. Dad doesn’t like it either if the frequency of his clawing is any indication. It is very strange, but if Mom wants our poop then she can have it.

I just wish our two leggers would calm down some with the cleanliness, especially the human sort. It is not that bad, though. Live and let live, I say.